Beauty of Annihilation
by kjrod98
Summary: The prophecies concerning the thirteenth Empyrean Lord are starting to unravel, and threaten the whole of Atreia. Will this halfbreed lady destroy Atreia, or will she unite the Asmodians and Elyos to annihilate the Balaur completely?
1. Prologue

_The pale assassin silently shifted her weight, slipping a sleek dagger into one hand, sword already gripped in her other hand. Her pale pink eyes flicked around again as she waited for her target to move closer. She needed to isolate him from his group, which was proving to be a rather difficult task so far._

_She hated being in Elysea. Even in the dead of their "night" Shadow's surroundings were as bright as a candle. How could they stand it? The albino assassin much preferred the cool darkness of her homeland. Ah well, once she killed the man and retrieved the papers he clutched in one hand, she wouldn't be in Elysea much longer... Hopefully._

_Bringing her mind back to the task at hand, Shadow slipped into the shadow walk, suddenly able to see the ground through her black and blue armor, although to others she would be invisible. She slipped down noiselessly from the tree she had been hiding in, now right behind the man she had been sent to assassinate. The shadows cast from the foliage at her back would keep her mostly hidden, as she had a chain helm obscuring her stark white hair and face. Bringing her dagger up, Shadow slashed through the thin cloth armor guarding his neck, and the mage fell to his knees, taking his last breath._

_Vanishing back into the shadow before the other two Elyos could spot her, she watched as they all jumped up, with shouts of rage, furiously looking around for the assailant._

_The larger of the two turned and said something sharply to his companion, and he took off at a run, probably for backup, Shadow was assuming._

_Slipping into her shadow walk form again so as not to be seen, Shadow slipped behind the only remaining Elyos, killing him as well, then looting both of the bodies. Perfect, she had the papers Triniel needed. Now she could begin making her way back to the rift in Manduri Forest that she had used to get in. Shadow wasn't happy about having to wait about an hour for it to reappear, but what choice did she have? Every Shugo had been out of Pandaemonium, Altgard, Morheim and other scrolls and she had used her last one to get back from a previous mission. _

_Her pale eyes scanning over the documents quickly, she shoved them into her cube. Then, she began to run for the spot where she knew the rift would appear, swift and silent, all but invisible to everything around her.._

_A sudden twig cracked had the pale assassin whirling around, and she did so just in time to see a heavy mace come crashing into the side of her head. A gasp was the only noise that escaped her as she fell, darkness claiming her. Shadow never hit the ground._ In her bed, the assassin's body shifted restlessly.

The scene shifted, and Shadow looked on, seeing herself in chains, bound and gagged. She struggled to bring herself out of the dream, wishing desperately to wake up in her own bed, unharmed, sweating, where the dream was only a wretched memory that was a stain on her soul. But no, Aion had to be taunting her tonight. Her view shifted again, and she was no longer hovering behind herself. She was the prisoner now.

_Shadow struggled to open her eyes, stubbornly fighting off unconsciousness. A soft chuckle made her cringe, and the pounding in her head only increased, sounding like Mau war drums and flute were pounding into her skull. A muffled groan escaped the assassin, and she tasted blood. Then she realized that she could feel it on her forehead and back, her hair and mane sticking to her skin and they were all tangled. Ugh. Gross._

_"Well well well, someone's finally awake. Enjoy your nap, darling?" The voice was deep, and wait wait what? Was this Elyos scum speaking Asmodian? Shadow wondered where he had learned that, and made a mental note to find out. That couldn't be good._

_The leer in his words motivated Shadow to pry her eyes open to blinding light. The assassin made the mistake of trying to turn her head slightly, and the world swam, nausea rolling through her. Acid shot into her throat, and she gagged helplessly._

_"Bitch!" The voice suddenly exploded into yelling. "How DARE you! Can't keep your damned lunch off of my boots?" Shadow grimaced._

_"Armor is meant to protect the body, it is not a costume to wear so you look good. Also, your accent is horrible." Shadow felt her lips moving, although it was not her who spoke._

_Perhaps mouthing off to one's captors wasn't the smartest thing one could have done, but this dream version of Shadow couldn't help herself. She was pissed the hell off, especially since she realized that her hands were bound behind her, and that her feet were bound as well, tight enough that her bare skin was bleeding._

_A vicious backhand sent her tumbling to the ground from her former upright position, and a boot slammed into her temple. Just hard enough to make the female Asmodian taste her own blood, black out for a few seconds. Her eyes watered and she gritted her teeth against a scream._

_Shadow snarled wordlessly at the Elyos, rage coursing through her. Her vision took on a red film and Shadow knew her pale pink gaze was glowing brightly. The male's boot slammed into her chest, and a loud crack could be heard, at the same time pain flared in her chest, sharp, agonizing. Shadow would have curled into a ball if she could, but as it was her feet and hands were tied, forcing her into the position of a bow. She recognized it from the various stretching and meditation exercises that she used to relax after a long day of work. Her bindings were tight enough to where she couldn't attempt to get out of them without the high possibility of losing a hand or worse. She couldn't flex her claws enough, but the feeling when she rubbed them against each other said that they had been clipped short anyways, probably to prevent her from clawing at them or taking her own life to escape._

_Heavy footsteps shook the ground under Shadow's pale body, and her pink eyes flicked upwards, against her better judgement. From what the assassin could make out, she was in an iron-barred cage, but given that she had been knocked unconscious for Aion-knows-how-long, she was unsure of her location. It had to be in Eltnen or Heiron though, judging by what little Shadow could make out in the blinding glare of the star overhead._

_A rough voice, male, spoke then. "Leave the prisoner for the boss, you idiot! He's going to be pissed if he sees that you harmed her!" Was that a hint of worry in the other male's voice?_

_"So heal her then, cleric! Or not. Animals don't deserve our kindness!" The male who had kicked her snarled at the man who had interrupted._

_Shadow tried to close her eyes, to calm her nerves. She knew exactly what happened next. Oh, Aion was a cruel bastard, all right._

_A loud sigh, and then a brown-haired, brown-eyed, tan-skinned male's face loomed over her. The cleric, Shadow would assume, judging by the staff she could see poking up behind his shoulders._

_The cleric crouched over her, and Shadow spat at him. "I'd rather die than be healed by you sun-poxed peasants!"_

_"Calm yourself, cretin. I don't know why the bossman likes pathetic little things like you, but it won't be so bad... You might want to renounce any allegiance to your lords and defect to our righteous cause though." The cleric's voice was harsh and loud, and Shadow wished she could cover her ears._

_"Not going to happen, ever." Shadow retorted, feeling her temper spike. How dare these sun-blasted blights tell her to deny her allegiance to the Shedim lords!_

_"Oh, you'll be begging to join us when I'm done with you, kitten." A new voice spoke then, somewhat deeper, rougher and filled with such malice that the assassin almost cringed. And the way that he said those words left no doubt as to what he meant by "getting through with her". Shadow was all too aware of her naked body, her leather armor, sword and daggers, and her cube nowhere in sight. The air was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but she still shivered. The new man that had entered gave a soft chuckle._

_"Varakai, heal her." He said, and Shadow snarled at the cleric as he got closer, far too close for her comfort. The cleric murmured a few words, and Shadow felt his power wrapping around her, healing her head wounds, healing whatever it was in her chest that had been hurting - A broken rib or two, perhaps? - and then he stepped back._

_"I'll leave the animal to you, boss." And with that, the cleric left, but not before Shadow caught something in his eyes. Regret? Sorrow? But the emotion was gone to quick to be sure, and Shadow knew better than to try and ask._

_The cleric was replaced with a large man with dark blonde hair and dark green eyes, along with lightly tanned skin. Any Elyos woman would have probably been all over him, but she was relatively unimpressed. He was maybe around six feet, but her sense of height and depth was screwed up from being on the ground. Definitely larger than either of the two others that Shadow had had the unpleasant experience of being near so far._

_The man merely stared at her for a moment, his eyes roaming all over, making Shadow feel discomfort and rage at being checked out by someone whom had captured her. For a female, Shadow was relatively unremarkable. She was built for running, and any softness there would have normally been on a female of her size and body build had been replaced with hard muscle. Her beasts, while not the largest around, weren't the smallest either, and various scars criss-crossed her pale, alabaster skin. Her hair, if possible, was even paler than her skin and her eyes were a strange metallic-pink color. The male, by contrast, had lightly tanned skin corded with muscle, his dark blonde hair fell to his shoulders, and there weren't any scars that Shadow could see. If she'd had to guess, she'd peg him for a templar or a gladiator. The man knelt, shifting slightly and moving a bit closer to her. A large greatsword was at his hip, confirming the Asmodian's suspicions of his class._

_"Renounce your allegiance to those pathetic excuses for Empyrean Lords of yours and give me the information that I want and I won't torture you... Much." His voice was deep and Shadow could hear the menace behind it, but she couldn't._

_"I'll never give up information or defect to your light-blasted lands, whitewing." Shadow snarled at him, eyes flaring crimson with equal parts hate and fury. Maybe if she had just stayed silent, things would've gone differently._

_"You will, eventually, you'll see the light." He growled at the assassin, unsheathing his greatsword and gently letting it rest on her neck. Shadow jerked forwards, trying to cut herself. Better to end this now, as there was no other way she could get out of this trap unless he was stupid enough to untie her, which unfortunately he wouldn't be. But the warrior snapped the huge sword back, and her pale skin remained intact._

_"Uh uh uh, now why would a pretty thing like you be trying to kill herself? Why not stay awhile, enjoy the sun on your face...?" The male leered at her, "Maybe enjoy the time with a hot male..." His voice trailing off, and one large hand brushed her stomach, dipping lower._

_A wave of revulsion swept through Shadow, and she struggled in her bindings, suddenly very desperate to get away. The male chuckled softly, and began to remove his breastplate, the rest of his armor following. She screamed silently, begging for Aion to end this torment._

A blink, and again, the scene changed. Now, she stood in front of the iron-barred cage.

_An Asmodian female lay curled up in a ball in the far corner of the iron cage, pale pink eyes glazed over, her once white hair and skin dirty, stained with blood, sweat, dirt and other things. She had grown skinny from a lack of food, and her ribs showed clearly. Starvation wouldn't kill her, she was a Daeva after all, but it would make her weaker. Far weaker than she had once been._

_A large templar stood, holding the Asmodian prisoner away from his body, as if she were a vile creature that was trying to claw at his neck, which was exposed through the shiny plate armor he wore._

_"Pathetic." He growled at his two subordinates. "We couldn't get any information from this piece of vermin at all! And now she's too broken to speak! I told you to be more careful, gladiator. Ah well, what's done is done, I suppose. Leave her in the abyss to die." He finished coldly, blue eyes flashing with rage as he handed over the unconscious female to the gladiator, who slung her roughly over broad shoulders._

_"Yes, sir." The gladiator replied meekly._

_"Get out of my sight, Arimanius." The templar half growled at him. They had failed miserably. Now they needed to find someone else to get information from. He had to hand it to the Asmodian, she was stubborn._

_"Varakai, make sure he follows orders, please." The blue-eyed templar snapped at a smaller, cloth-clad man, who nodded curtly._

_"Sir, yes sir!"_

_The gladiator turned and left, Varakai in tow, heading towards Verteron Citadel, which held the closest abyss gate. Shadow felt herself moving, following a step behind them, invisible._

_They had moved from Heiron to Verteron after an Asmodian cleric had gotten far too close to sniffing out their little operation. The raven-haired healer had gotten far too close to the spot where they had been holding the assassin prisoner, and had managed to get away with the prisoner's cube and be roughed up just a bit. There was a scar now on Arimanius' face where that damned staff had hit him squarely between the eyes, breaking his nose._

_Entering the area around the fortress, as soon as he could fly Arimanius unfurled his wings, a light brush of aether pulsing from him as he flapped hard, pushing himself into the sky, up towards the abyss gate. He'd leave her in the core to vanish Daevas couldn't die of starvation, but Balaur were plentiful in the abyss. He was sure one of them would be around to finish what he had started._

_A few hours later, he was in the abyss core. Arimanius merely dropped his load, then used a scroll to return himself back to Verteron. It didn't matter what happened to the girl, only that she was out of his hands. The fall would surely kill her, or the Balaur would. Or, or, the Elyos would. Maybe even her own people. The Asmodians were a cruel and savage race, after all._

The nightmare continued on, and in the bed the pale female tossed and turned. A tall man entered the room, deep red eyes glancing down at the slim figure under the covers, a noiseless sigh escaping his lips.

_In her dream, Shadow now hovered in the abyss. A cleric that was a few inches taller than she was, with deep red eyes and raven hair stood before her, staring right through her as if she didn't exist. Shadow was suddenly pitched forwards, and then, she saw and felt as the cleric did. The weight of a staff on her back felt odd, but then Shadow had always been one for a sword and daggers. And her weapons sat in sheathes on her hips, not slung across her back. Shadow felt something within her shift, and in the back of her mind, she knew that she had merged souls with this past version of the war-hardened cleric. All she could do was ride it out._

_Nemesis growled in frustration, black wings exploding from her back as she took flight. Her legion was down one hell of an assassin, and much as the cleric kept her distance, she rather liked Shadow. She worried about the albino. Her mission had been simple, and she had never failed before. But it had been over two months, and there was no sign of her. Nemesis had slipped into Elysea through a rift and had managed to get close enough to see an iron-barred cage. There had been a cube on the ground, the ornate black and red belonging to Shadow. Nemesis had grabbed it, and had fought her way back to a portal leading into Beluslan, earning more than a few scrapes and bruises along the way, but healing herself had been easy enough._

_Flying out over the core of the abyss, movement caught her eye. Someone, using a return scroll of some sort. Another figure, also using one. But suddenly, the second figure pulled back out of reading the script that would transfer them to wherever the scroll was pointed at, and Nemesis rushed forwards, staff at the read as the first figure disappeared._

_When she got close enough to cast a spell, the figure held up his hands._

_"Please, no! I surrender! I'm not-" Nemesis growled, cutting him off. She glanced around warily, searching for signs of any other Elyos in case this was a ruse to capture or kill her. No other Elyos in sight, but still, she would remain on her guard. This was the abyss, after all. Just because there was only one Elyos in sight didn't mean there were twenty others and a pack of Balaur or that damned Dredgion lurking just out of sight._

_A shape falling caught her attention, and shock slammed into Nemesis as she realized what - no, who - that shape was._

_There was something oddly sickening about seeing yourself falling and not being able to do a damned thing about it. Shadow felt that same dull sense of panic, that same nauseating feeling in her gut. But she could do nothing, she just had to sit through it and hope she didn't wake up and find herself in the middle of a full-blown panic attack._

_"Shadow..." The cleric's voice was barely above a whisper, and suddenly she exploded into motion, stooping to pass he limp form of the assassin as she fell, grabbing her as she did so before landing roughly on a tiny, floating island. Setting the Daeva down gently, Nemesis snapped out a quick healing spell. It wouldn't be enough, she knew, but the Elyos had decided to come closer, white wings creating a breeze as they kept him aloft, just out of range for spellcasting._

_"I tried to keep the damage they did to her a minimum. I never wanted to be a part of this... I... I..." He began, stuttering, and Nemesis cut him off with another growl, realizing what language he was speaking. His accent was absolutely atrocious._

_"Give me one good reason to believe you, you sun-blighted piece of brax shit." Yeah, if the male hadn't gotten the hint that Nemesis was beyond pissed off, now he knew. The female cleric held his dark gaze, red eyes glowing brightly._

_"You." He said. "You were the one that got so close to us. I deliberately moved slowly so you would get that cube. I never wanted anything to do with their plans. It wasn't right. Real Elyos don't stoop to that level. Please... I want to defect. I-" Again, he was cut off, but not by the pissed off cleric this time. The voice that spoke was deep and cool, yet commanding, and Nemesis instantly recognized it, dropping into a curtsy as large black wings came into her line of sight. The curtsy would have probably looked better if she had on formal clothes or cloth armor that most clerics wore, but Nemesis was decked out in full chain today._

_"The assassin will return to Primum Landing. You should too." The dark figure said, white eyes flicking over to Nemesis, who was kneeling now before the Shedim Lord._

_Nemesis nodded._

_"You, Elyos, have two options. I either let Nemesis eviscerate you, or I take you to one of our dungeons." Nemesis watched as the other cleric's lightly tanned face paled, his brown eyes widening in fear, but was surprised when he dropped his gaze and bowed meekly. The fact that Marchutan didn't make a move was also surprising, but then, he probably already knew what was to happen._

_"Take me prisoner. I won't fight you or yours."_

_The prone form of the still bound and gagged assassin suddenly faded, and Nemesis could feel the sting of a cold desert wind on her face, the signature of Marchutan's aether. The real Shadow, remained in Nemesis' body. Trapped._

_Closing her deep red eyes, the cleric said a word, soft blue light encasing her as she cast the return spell. The spell was a good deal slower than what Marchutan had done to Shadow, and she resisted the urge to shift impatiently from foot to foot. Movement would just break the spell altogether._

_Feeling the change in terrain under her feet, Nemesis opened her eyes to shouts of horror and rage. Shadow's soul had reformed her body at the obelisk, and Gallia, the resident soul healer was both livid and horrified, it seemed. Possibly a bit shocky too. What could upset a soul healer that had to heal so many a day like this though, especially a soul healer who worked in the abyss?_

_A column of blue to Nemesis' left, and another female appeared. Her straight platinum blonde hair fell to her waist, and the harp she carried glowed with aether. Her skin was a pale blue. Leah. A male with light blue skin materialized next to her, looking tired, but relatively unharmed._

_Another flash, and a light grey-skinned gladiator with blonde hair also appeared, nearly collapsing on the male's arm. The male held her up gently. Leah, Ares and Alala. Nemesis turned, casting a quick group healing spell over them. The female gladiator straightened._

_"Thanks, Nem. What happened?" Alala's voice was sharp with concern, light green eyes bright as they glanced over at the commotion with the soul healer and the pale form she was carrying towards a hastily set-up tent._

_"Those Elyos bastards." Nemesis growled. "They just dropped Shadow in the middle of the abyss and used a scroll to get back to wherever he came from. The other guy, a priest, was taken in for questioning by Marchutan." Rage vibrated in her voice, and Nemesis saw the same rage flaring in Alala's eyes, as well as the male's light brown eyes. The bright glow of battle had been in their eyes before, but now definitely wouldn't be fading any time soon._

_Along with the rage, guilt gnawed at her. She should have been able to do something, should have been able to rescue Shadow._

_"Where are the others?" Nemesis asked._

_"Loki, Isis and Medea-" The templar, Ares, began to speak._

_"Are right here." A dry voice said from behind, and Ares turned to glare at the spiritmaster Loki, who had a wind spirit by his side, along with the fiery-haired Medea and a chanter._

_Another series of flashes, and the remaining four members of the her legion appeared. A ranger with ice colored skin, black hair swept up into a ponytail and mismatched black and purple eyes nearly collapsing on Nemesis, who reached out a clawed hand to steady her, whispering a healing spell as the ranger wiped a smear of blood from her face with one hand._

_"Thanks, sis." The ranger, Hel panted._

_A pale gunslinger glanced over at Nemesis._

_"What happened? Did they find...?" Nemesis pitied the hope she saw in the gunslinger's white eyes. She was Shadow's twin._

_Shadow felt sick. None of this should have ever happened. Her sister and parents, and her legionmates, shouldn't have had to go through the pain of knowing someone they loved was missing._

_"Yeah... Marchutan teleported her here, it looked like they never let her die." Nemesis stated flatly. If it was possible, the gunslinger's pale face paled even more, and Nemesis thought she saw the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. Loki gently wrapped his arms around her, murmuring into Alessia's ear._

_A guard slipped out from behind the makeshift tent and approached the group. "Cleric! Gallia needs you." With a curt nod, Nemesis hurried over and stepped inside the tent, almost afraid at what she might find._

Shadow, in her mind, cursed out Aion miserably. It wasn't fair. Why was he forcing her to live through everything that happened again? At least it no longer shocked her. After going through the same nightmare over and over again, one becomes numb to it's horrors.

In the real world, the shadowed figure stood just inside the doorway to the bedchambers. He wanted desperately to go over to the bed and wake up the sleeping assassin, to help her out of the personal hell she had to be going through as he watched her restlessly shift in the bed. Even in the grips of a nightmare, the evidence being clear with her racing pulse and sweat on her forehead, Shadow was silent, not uttering a single sound.

He knew she'd had nightmares for months after Nemesis had dragged her out of the abyss, and he knew that they still plagued her sleep when he wasn't around, even close to three decades after the fact. He also knew that the pale assassin wouldn't admit it. Always playing the strong one, never wanting to depend on others. It was, the shadowed figure mused, part of the reason he loved her.

He stayed where he was, knowing that attempted to wake her would just make it worse on her. Shadow underestimated how well he really did know her. Marchutan, along with being able to divine one's fate, was a clairvoyant, after all. The lord of fate had warned him not to baby the assassin, and he had listened. He hadn't planned on treating the assassin like a fragile Vanahaller, he'd seen her inner strength.

Back in the dream, Shadow couldn't help tensing up. She had seen this particular scene so many times, and yet...

_Inside the tent, it was a good bit darker than it had been outside, but being Asmodian, Nemesis wasn't going to complain. A pale woman in the robes of a soul healer was crouched over a still-unconscious form. Gallia glanced up, a look of horror in her eyes as they locked with Nemesis' gaze._

_"I've mended her soul as much as I can... I don't think she'll thank me for it though..." Her voice seemed distant, as if she was reliving some sort of memory. _Damn right, Shadow didn't appreciate having her memories returned to her. She would have been just fine to have lost it all and not know. Thanks, Gallia. Oh, yeah. Shadow was bitter. But how could she not be?

_Gallia glanced down at the unmoving assassin, then inhaled sharply. Nemesis felt her blood run cold with dread at the soul healer's grim expression._

_"There's something else too... I can't place it, but I'd keep her off of the battlefield for a while." Gallia's voice was hollow. Nemesis's vision went hazy red in rage. She took a breath, steadying herself. Rage and aggression were not good things for a cleric, she had been told this many times over the years._

_Oh, Shadow... What did they do to you? She thought._

_Wordlessly stepping in front of the albino, Nemesis began to chant, casting several healing spells. Splendor of Rebirth VII and Vitality's Gift I, then Ripple of Purification IV to top it off. Shadow had looked like death only moments ago, but now with all of her wounds closed and entirely healed she looked far better than she had, although the dirt and blood that was already on her was still there._

_The pale figure stirred, and Gallia grabbed a towel, gently covering Shadow's body with it._

_Pale eyes snapped open,_

_"Shh..." Gallia soothed, and Nemesis let her. She wasn't the sympathetic type, and would have no idea what to say anyways. Her skills were more along the lines of healing silently, and fighting. She had been scornfully called a "melee cleric" on many occasions, not that the dark haired female cared what others thought._

_"You're back with us, Shadow, breathe." Gallia's voice was soothing, dark eyes remaining on the stricken assassin's face._

_Shadow's usually pale skin was mottled with bruises and gruesome gashes and welts, which were now fading rapidly away as they healed. She was conscious, and Nemesis couldn't imagine the pain she had to have been going through. The assassin's pale pinkish eyes, once so bright and alert, were now wary and had a haunted look to them._

_"How bad is it?" The assassin sounded miserable and tired. Her voice was raspy and hoarse, as if she either hadn't used it in a while or had been screaming her lungs out. Nemesis reached into her cube and handed her a water bottle. Her sharp red gaze didn't miss the way the assassin flinched when their skin brushed._

_"You were missing for two months, and I find you dropped by an elyos. In the center of the abyss." Nemesis half growled at her injured legionmate. Yeah, she was a cleric... Just... Not a very nice one. While she healed someone, she'd often chew them out. Alala and Ares joked about it often. But they were most often the ones in need of healing, it was to be expected._

_"One of the bastards used a return scroll of some sort, and the other was carted off to that dungeon under Altgard Fortress for questioning. He apparently wants to defect." Oh yeah, tact wasn't this cleric's strong suit either. Shadow winced._

_"Let me guess, that cleric Varakai?" Shadow asked sourly. Nemesis nodded, eyes narrowing._

_"Did he do anything to you? Because I swear if he did I'll make sure that Noroia knows." And Shadow knew Nemesis would in a heartbeat. The dungeon guard leader didn't take kindly to anyone harming her friends, and Nemesis knew that Shadow had been stationed in Altgard for a while after her ascension. The assassin had been well-liked, even by the old commander Suthran, from what Nemesis had heard over the years._

_"He... He didn't physically harm me... He kept them from attacking me when it was clear my body couldn't take it, but once they chased him off they would take out their frustration of him healing me, out on me..." Shadow's voice cracked slightly and she looked down at the dark maroon towel that covered her pale frame. Gallia gave Nemesis a scathing look and the dark cleric winced, making a note to try ad not be so upfront. Tact wasn't her strong suit._

_The sound of a throat being cleared shook the cleric from her thoughts. She turned, expecting to see Ares. Instead, her eyes fell upon a dark figure with white hair and white eyes. The aura of power around him was unmistakable. The male wore cloth and there was a staff at his back. Marchutan, again._

_Nemesis dropped into a curtsy almost immediately, Gallia following suit. Nemesis heard Shadow move behind her, but didn't turn around to see what she was doing._

_"Stay put, assassin." Marchutan's voice was deep, but gentle, and he spoke softly._

_"Nemesis, Gallia, you both may go. I need to speak with Shadow."_

_With a nod, Nemesis slipped out of the makeshift tent, and went to go search for her legionmates. The real Shadow was thrown forwards again, this time back into her own body. She knew what happened next too, and she grit her teeth, readying herself for what was to come._

In the dark bedroom, Azphel closed his eyes, focusing. _Marchutan, could you slip into Shadow's dreaming?_ Mental communication was pretty useful, sometimes.

_Is that a request, or an order?_ The mental voice that echoed in his head was cool. Azphel resisted the urge to give the lord of fate a mental shove in irritation.

_A request._ He focused his thought on Marchutan's mind, and he got a cool nod in return. Retreating back into his own mind, he began divesting himself of his plate armor, placing it all back into his cube and donning sweats in it's place. He wasn't at court or in public. He could wear whatever the hell he wanted.

_Shadow watched as the soul healer and cleric left, her eyes flicking over warily to the dark figure that stood in the tent with her now. Her heart was still pounding in fear from the memories of what had been done to her over the past few months. Shadow wouldn't mind the ones that had done it dying a slow and painful death._

_What she had said about the cleric Varakai had been true. He had intervened more than once on her behalf under the false pretense of keeping the prisoner alive. But somehow, he was perhaps the one that she was most enraged at. He healed her up, knowing full well that the torment would continue as they tried to get information out of her. And when they couldn't get information out of her, they gave her a few final blows and next thing she knew, she was waking up here in the tent._

_The Shedim Lord's voice cut through Shadow's thoughts. "Destiny has set out a harsh path for you, child. You must endure it, this storm will only get worse before it eases." Marchutan's deep voice reached her ears and the assassin felt her stomach turn as icy claws of fear pricked along her spine. The lord of fate's voice was foreboding and Shadow glanced up at him, her expression mirroring how she felt at the moment._

_"I'm pregnant, aren't I?" Shadow's voice sounded hollow, broken. And the young assassin knew the answer even before Marchutan's "Yes." split the quiet air. Shadow blinked fast, stemming the flow of tears waiting for release. Wasn't it bad enough, what she had been through? Now to learn that she was pregnant... With a half Elyos child. To have a now constant reminder of what she had gone through._

_Destiny had a cruel hand. Aion, perhaps, even crueler._

_Shadow closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep._

_"There have been events set in motion by your capture, Shadow. You must follow your heart."_

_Machutan held one dark hand out to her, and Shadow took the darker object that was in his large palm."Nemesis managed to sneak in and recover your cube, which the Elyos were unable to open." As they shouldn't. Shadow had asked Medea to ward her cube against theft and unwarranted searches and the cost for that hadn't been cheap. The pale assassin would thank her fiery-haired sorceress later for that, as well as the battle-thirsty cleric that had recovered it. To hear that Nemesis was rifting in Elysea, or had been sent there on a mission wasn't surprising. The dark cleric had grown up in Morheim's Alsig Village, and Elyos rifters were frequent just as Asmodians rifting in Eltnen were._

_"Thank you, sir."_

_"Both Lord Azphel and Lady Triniel wish to see you once you feel up to it. For now, go home and rest. Staying here in Gelkmarros won't be good for you." That definitely stung Shadow's ego, and she was really tempted to argue that she was fine, that she could handle the work. But in her heart, she knew she'd just be lying to herself, and one glance up at the lord of fate's face told her it wouldn't be a good idea._

_"Yes, sir." Ugh. Even to her own ears she sounded absolutely miserable. Marchutan seemed to study the assassin for a long moment, and she cringed inwardly, for a brief second fear tried to work it's way through her mind and take hold, and then he left. A shimmering form caught her eye, and Shadow's pale eyes narrowed. There stood Marchutan, almost entirely transparent but for her eyes that burned brightly in the dimness of the tent._

_The phantom figure locked eyes with her. "You'll be under Azphel's shadow soon, assassin." The deep voice was gentle, kind white eyes seemed to stare right into her soul. "This nightmare will be cut short." Thank you, Marchutan, Shadow thought. And just as soon as she thought that, the figure was gone._

_Opening her cube, Shadow took out her clothes. Gingerly getting to her feet she dove into them, feeling exposed and vulnerable, before opening a portal to her house in Pernon. It dropped her just inside the closed door, for which she was grateful. She was so not in the mood to be seen by any Daevas that might be around._

_Her house was lightly furnished, a table in one corner was home to a large plant, a sofa next to it with another table and chair. Nothing fancy. The white walls were bare of any paintings or wallpaper, the dark leather of the sofa was clean, as was the rest of the house. Butlers were good for that when you were out working most of the time. This was not Shadow's home now, she had moved in with her lover. But the reminder of her former home brought back some better memories._

_And just like that, the scene began to fade away, returning her to darkness._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Holy hell, my handssss. I'm so sorry that this prologue is gigantic. But I had fun writing this. I (almost) feel bad for Shadow and her nightmares, but without this there would- Whoops! Sorry, no spoilers!

ANYWAYS, reviews would be loved. I'm honestly not sure if I should continue on with this or not. It just kind of... Happened one day while me and some friends were joking about my Aion characters being the only ones I haven't completely ripped to shreds yet. Naturally, I had to go and do this. You'll see how it ties in with the main story soon enough. ;)

EDIT 4/8/14 - Updated to fix all the typos and formatting issues. A couple sentences were added in the last quarter of the chapter to make some things a bit clearer.


	2. Chapter 1

Blinking awake, the pale assassin sat up weaily, rubbing the sleep out of pale pink eyes. She could still feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she took a breath, trying to slow it down. The sudden brush of Azphel's aether against her skin definitely helped. His aether was ice cold winter winds and snow that reminded Shadow of her time spend in the fortresses of Altgard, Morheim and Beluslan. For a Daeva, Shadow was actually quite young, not even half of a century old. But she had been through more than her fair share of work, having closed abyss gates, dealt with rogue Shadow Judges. Even the events of Haramel and Agnita's Fire Temple were still so clear to her. Shadow had also spent more time in the abyss than she cared to think about. But reminders of her mortal years and early days as a daeva were always welcome.

Pale eyes flicked over to the door, where the dark figure now stood, pink eyes locking with dark red for a moment, and Azphel calmly walked over to the bed to sit next to her, giving Shadow a quick kiss to the forehead as he pulled the assassin into his lap. The assassin didn't mind. Azphel made her a very happy woman, and he had a way of making her feel safe and secure.

"You-" Azphel murmured in her ear, only to be cut off as a sudden torrent of aether slammed into both of them. Shadow gasped, her vision and hearing fading, overcome by the sheer force of the aether. Unable to think, much less move, Shadow felt herself collapsing into Azphel's arms, her pulse roaring in her ears.

It was a few minutes before she got her mind back, along with the mother of all headaches. Shadow couldn't breathe, the aether ripping through her was making it impossible. She saw Azphel's black and blue wings unfurl, and didn't need to look to know that her own had appeared, summoned by the amount of aether in the air as well, even though she couldn't feel it.

Shadow tried to breathe in and blood filled her nostrils. Coughing, she jumped up, blindly swiping her cube off of the nightstand and pulling out some tissues, tipping her head back and holding them up to her face. They were soaked through in only a few seconds.

Dimly, she heard Azphel swear. It sounded far off.

Azphel was saying something, but Shadow couldn't make out the words. She shook her head, pointing at her ears with one hand. Her head was pounding in time with her heart.

Aether continued to pulse and whirl around her, and Shadow's nose kept bleeding. Azphel was moving, but the daeva couldn't move, the aether pinning her in place.

Shadow blinked, trying to clear her head. She could breathe again, the aether was slowly residing. Her head was still pounding and it took several moments for her vision to clear, and another moment for her to recognize where she was. At some point during the explosion of aether, she had dropped to her knees, and was now leaning against the frame of the bed. For the second time that night, she struggled to get her breathing under control. Her nose still hadn't stopped bleeding, but it was slowing down.

"Shadow, you okay?" Azphel's voice sounded hoarse, and far too loud for Shadow's suddenly extremely sensitive ears. She winced.

"I think so. What was that?" Ouch. Talking hurt.

"It had the feel of someone ascending. That was raw, unadulter aether, not the refined spellwork one would use in any sort of casting." The lord of Darkness replied, and Shadow agreed. The newly ascended tended to bleed aether as their bodies adjusted to new muscles, strength and power. They all started off as mortal human, but the body underwent a lot of change and stress during the time they ascended to sometimes a few years after the fact.

Shadow struggled to her feet, swaying slightly as she leaned against the bed for support, forcefully banishing her wings. Due to the aether, it made them far easier to summon as opposed to banishing them away.

Azphel's arms came around her, effortlessly lifting her onto the bed where she would have collapsed again. The aether had appeared so abruptly and begun leaving so quickly it left the paler Daeva weaker than she would have liked.

"Where could it have come from, though? It felt like whoever would have ascended would be right on top of us with the amount of aether expelled, yet there's something... I can't put my claw on it..."

"Whatever caused that is southeast, I'd bet Kinah on Ishalgen." He went on at her look. "Most of the older Daevas can pinpoint where aether is being used. A skill that comes with age."

Azphel said a word, lightly running his claws up Shadow's bare arm, making her shiver slightly. She felt her nose itch and reached up reflexively to press the tissue to it, having grabbed another one from her cube, but was surprised to see it come away completely clean. She glanced over at Azphel, pale eyes narrowing as she sought out the aetheric trace of the spell he had obviously just used on her. Said aetheric trace was lost amidst the aether still running rampart in the air.

"You can ask Triniel about that one later. I really need to go find whatever caused this whole mess. You coming?" Azphel asked, and Shadow nodded. The aether, having damn near crippled her at first, was now filling her with energy. Being so close with Azphel, no doubt helped, insanely powerful being that he was.

What if that had been Brynhild ascending? She remembered the words of Marchutan from years ago, and Munin's damned prophecy. Could it have been Shadow's daughter, a hybrid, that would wield such power, and not Shadow herself? Oh, Shadow had indeed faced down many challenges that tested her strength so far, but there were plenty of Daevas that were more powerful than her, the young upstart, formerly one of Ulgorn's Raiders, of all things, a fact of which the people of Pandaemonium never ceased to snarl about behind her back as if she was never watching. If her relationship with Azphel ever came out in the open, Shadow had the feeling things would not go so well. The Shedim Lords had grown fond of her, as had the ragtag legion she was a part of, but not everyone was so fond.

Had these Daevas learned of Brynhild, all hell would have broken loose for sure. As it was, Shadow had to watch her daughter grow up from afar, not knowing who her real parents were, thinking that she was an orphan, living with Verdandi and Skuld in Ishalgen, away from the prying eyes of both the Raiders and any Daeva or mortal with half a brain cell that was loyal to Pandaemonium. It was painfully obvious Brynhild wasn't an Asmodian. At first glance she could easily be mistaken for a pure Elyos, with her tanned skin, blonde hair, green eyes and height being a good bit taller than any Asmodian. That was reason enough for Brynhild to stay as far away from Pandaemonium and the rest of the population as she could get. The kid couldn't have been dumped on the Elyos either, as they would have just killed her on the spot, because half-breeds were abominations. Nor could they have dumped her out in Balaurea, with the Reians. It was bad enough Kahrun and his people were having a hard enough time fighting off the Balaur and having to keep Asmodians and Elyos civilized as it was. It wouldn't be fair to them.

And then, there was that storm of aether. The assassin had never been the most powerful of Daevas, despite her accomplishments. Her ascension had been relatively quiet in that regard, the aether having been confined to that Forsaken Hollow. A Daeva that powerful could not be let alone, they would need guidance. All Daevas had to undergo training by Marchutan's Priory and whoever their class preceptor was, anyways. But a Daeva that powerful, to be able to reach them from such a far away place as Ishalgen, if Azphel was correct? That was unheard of. Indeed, the Shedim Lords would probably have to step in for that case.

Standing up, Shadow took out her leathers that she kept tucked in her cube. She had just done repairs on them and they seemed good as new. A Balaur had sliced a part of her breeches to ribbons, but a hard day of sewing had mended that problem. It would have been less time consuming to have bought a new pair of breeches altogether, but this pair, like so many pieces of armor and accessories, had various enchantments and perks, in addition to the manastones Shadow had already socketed into them. And they matched the rest of her armor, as well as being comfortable. Comfortable and oh so warm.

About twenty minutes later, Shadow was fully dressed in her black and dark grey leathers, along with her sword and dagger. Ice blue aether flickered through the leather and both weapons.

Azphel's plate was black and had red aether sparkling and flowing on the surface. The large, two-handed sword at his hip had the same spark to it, the metal seemed to glow softly in the darkness of their bedchambers.

Shadow could sense Azphel was speaking telepathically to someone, by the distant look in his red gaze, probably issuing orders to check on Daevas stationed in the various regions of Asmodae and around Pandaemonium in particular. If the influx of supercharged aether had the same effects as it did to Shadow, there were bound to be some problems.

His gaze refocused on the room in which they stood, and Azphel rested a clawed hand on her shoulder. "Brace yourself. A portal is the fastest way to get over there, and Zikel reported the teleporters having been knocked unconscious."

The portal opened in front of her, and she leapt through, following a dark figure. Shadows rolled and clung to it, and all the assassin could make out was a pair of glowing eyes that glanced her way. Azphel in his energy or spirit form.

A familiar crystal cell stood in front of them, it's occupant was in a heap on the ground, unconscious. Blood still leaked from his nose and eyes. His black wings had snapped open, curled protectively around his body. The crystal wouldn't have allowed him to use aether, but the aether around him shouldn't have been able to affect him, either. Hell, now the aether forced Shadow wings open again, the feathers a mix of black, blue and just the faintest hints of purple.

Three figures were leaning against the outer walls of one of the other crystal cells, looking like they had just run across the continent. Which, maybe they had. Two of the figures were hunched over a fourth, while the other one had dropped into a curtsey almost immediately upon seeing the lord of darkness standing before them.

The one that had dropped into a curtsey looked just as Shadow remembered. Dark grey-green hair, dark eyes, light greenish-grey skin. She looked so young, but Shadow knew that she was far older than she let on. A staff was in one hand, and she wore cloth. A chanter. Skuld.

The two older woman were a bit shorter than their chanter, with greying blonde hair and greyish skin more wrinkled than an old piece of paper. They were nearly identical, but one looked to be older than the other. Urd and Verdandi. They both glanced up, then lowered their eyes in a show of subordination.

The third figure... Shadow closed her eyes for a brief moment. Her daughter was crumpled on the ground, huge wings folded around her body, golden aether sparkling around her, making the halfbreed somewhat hazy. The aura of power within was unmistakable. The wings themselves looked to be in the shape of a falcon or hawk of some sort They would have to be spread wide in order to tell the shape, as the beautiful multicolored feathers were hard to place.

And, Shadow realized with a start, were actually four wings instead of two.

"What happened?" Azphel's tone was icy calm. How was he so calm?

"Munin forced her acension. He told her everything, Shadow I'm-"

"Save it, Skuld." Shadow half growled at her. How dare Munin tell her own daughter about the atrocities committed that led to her existence?

Shadow knelt next to Brynhild, who was starting to stir.

"Brynhild." Skuld's voice was soft, soothing. Something that Shadow would have never been able to manage. And that killed her inside, to know she could never comfort her daughter as a mother. She forfeited that right long ago. At least here, she was loved.

Reluctantly, before the halfbreed opened her eyes, Shadow stepped away.

Dark green eyes opened, they were glassy. From shock, fear or the sheer force of the aether around them, or a combination of the above, Shadow wasn't sure.

A quiet voice rang out then, barely reaching Shadow's ears. "So, the lord of shadows and the esteemed bandit herself. Oh, the irony!" Azphel's red gaze swung around and Shadow stalked over to stand beside him, pink eyes narrowing on the form within the cage.

"Oh, believe me, Munin. The irony hasn't been lost on either one of us. You, however, will keep your mouth shut about that." Azphel's voice deepened slightly, threaded with power, and the imprisoned Daeva gazed down at the ground, flinching away. Both Shadow and Azphel had agreed that they would keep their relationship quiet and out of the public eye.

"What happe- Oh." Munin began a question, but then stopped himself as his eyes saw the dark figure that was stirring. Shadow could feel Azphel's rage just beneath the surface, as it curled around her, fueling her own fury towards the old Daeva. Her vision went red, and she knew that her eyes were glowing far brighter than they ever had at the moment.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Munin?" Shadow hissed, the fury she felt reflected in her voice. She saw Munin flinch back. Shadow would have loved to open the cage and stab him. Repeatedly.

_"That could be arranged."_ Azphel's mental voice was warm against Shadow's mind. The pale female would have smiled.

Other than the warmth of his mind against hers, the lord of darkness kept silent. Probably because he didn't trust himself to speak without losing it completely, but it also served to intimidate the crap out of people.

"Sir?" Skuld asked, heistant. Her voice sounded strained. Shadow felt Azphel's gaze shift onto the priestess, felt his rage shift focus as well.

"What are we going to do?" Indeed, tha was the billion kinah question. They couldn't leave the girl here, could they? Munin and his followers were somewhat of a sore topic, and that would only hurt her in the long run, Shadow suspected. And if what Skuld had said was true, that Munin forced Brynhild's ascension...

"I think you should let Shadow, this abomination's real mother, raise her and show her the ways of a Daeva." Munin suddenly hissed at them, perhaps a bit too loudly, and there was such ire in his eyes. Shadow recoiled from his words like they were a slap to the face. What had gotten into Munin? He was never this callous with Shadow before. Oh sure, back when she was a human he scared the crap out of her every time she came near his lonely hollow, but this... This was downright cruel!

"The prophecy I foretold was originally about you, but it seems as though this halfbreed-" The word was spat out with such disgust, The pale assassin couldn't help but flinch. Shadow's vision went red for a moment, the pent up anger she held inside threatening to explode within her.

Before anyone could say anything, Power lit the air around them, and nobody could speak. Shadow felt Azphel's gaze settle on Munin, then herself, and in turn each of his followers, and finally the newly ascended Daeva, who was quite clearly not sure what to think of anything at the moment. Shadow could feel the kid's eyes on her. A large part of Shadow just wanted to take the kid back to her sudio in Pernon and comfort her like a true mother. But how could she? The kid had more than likely just had her entire world thrown upside down, likely thought everything she had been told was a lie. And she would be partially correct in thinking so.

The thoughts running through Brynhild's heard right now were a mess. Muscles she didn't know she had flexed on her back as she forced herself into a sitting position. What in Aion's name had just happened? Oh, she knew she had ascended, the new, heavy weight at her back told her as much as the aether that curled around her like blue smoke. The scent of bonfires and fallen leaves filled her nostrils, along with something else. Deep down, she knew that it was pure, unadultered power.

So, Skuld had been lying to her all this time. Brynhild felt sick.

"You were one of the few people I actually trusted. Against my better judgement. I should've known all you would do is cause trouble, Munin." The woman's voice was cold and hard, but Brynhild heard the rage and betrayal underneath.

Her head was beginning to pound, the mother of all migraines was settling in for the long haul, and the warrior wondered how the hell she could close her wings.

Munin's voice roused her from her thoughts. That shadowy... Thing was Azphel? Lord Azphel, King of Darkness and a Shedim Lord? And the leather-clad female?

What Munin said next had Brynhild looking up at the female as she flinched away. Her gaze had flared red, and the woman wouldn't meet her gaze. She looked unhappy, and there was something else... Guilt? Rage was definitely in the mix though.

"Enough." The shadowed form interrupted whatever Munin was about to say, tone harsh and commanding as he met each of their eyes in turn, the twin points of brightness that was Azphel's gaze settling on Brynhild last. He seemed to staring right through her, and Brynhild realized with a shock just how powerful he was. Her mouth felt dry.

Something within her said that she could take him on and that she should do so. Brynhild ignored it. How could she go up against a Shedim Lord? It was sheer blasphemy. And utterly stupid. It would be a suicide mission. Granted, Brynhild's body would just reform somewhere if she had been bound to an Obelisk, but still. Stupidity at it's finest.

Azphel seemed to be looking at he woman he was with, and Brynhild somehow knew that they were having some sort of telepathic communication with each other, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. It was too heavily guarded for that.

That same thing that told her she could face down Azphel also told her that she could break those words easily. Too easily. What was wrong with her? This was not Brynhild's usual line of thought. Was it something to do with being newly ascended?

Brynhild tried to get a hold on her thoughts, tried to sort things out. She was half terrified, being in the presence of an Empyrean Lord, along with her ascension. She was also confused. What had Munin meant? What prophecy? She was a halfbreed? How come this stranger, Shadow, Munin had called her, didn't raise her if she was her real mother? Skuld had always told Brynhild she was an orphan. Did Shadow not want a child?

Azphel glanced back down at her, eyes flashing. "You will stay here in Ishalgen for now. Shadow will stay with you. You will listen to what she says, not what they say." His eyes shifted to Skuld. "You four will not make trouble. You will also do as Shadow orders." And with that the shadowy figure turned to Munin's crystal cell again.

In a move swift as lightening, Munin was on the ground, a cry escaping his lips. Blood dripped from his mouth and too late Brynhild realized that the Empyrean Lord had ripped out his tongue. The lord of darkness said something in some language Brynhild didn't know and vanished, the thing that was once Munin's tongue falling to the cold ground. Blood poured from the imprisoned Daeva's mouth.

Munin opened his mouth as if he was trying to say something, but no sound came out. Shadow smiled at him coldly, pink eyes flashing. Brynhild was grateful that she wasn't on the receiving end of that. Just who was this stranger anyways?

Shadow turned back to to them. "Come. We should check on the humans, make sure that they're safe. Verdandi, I'd advise not going home. They could think it's you and organize a raid. Ulgorn is fair, but I wouldn't put it past Tobu." The woman's tone made it clear how she felt about Ulgorn's second.

Shadow held out a hand to Brynhild, and after a moment's hesitation she took it, letting the leather-clad female haul her to her feet. Brynhild realized that she was actually taller than her mother by several inches. The Daeva locked eyes with her for a moment, her pink gaze was hard, but Brynhild caught the flash of both guilt and love in their depths. And there was something else... Anger? Resentment? It was gone before Brynhild really could catch a glimpse, and the female looked away.

Behind Brynhild, Urd laughed. "Rae and Wiokan nearly killed him a couple weeks ago after he said something nasty about assassins being cowards. And Ulgorn just sat by and let them beat him senseless for a while before stepping in."

Shadow kept a gloved hand on Brynhild's shoulder, steadying her. Standing felt odd. The heavy weight at her back really was throwing off her balance, more than Brynhild had expected.

"Oh, I must hear more about this." Shadow commented, the corners of her mouth twitching in the faintest hints of a smile. "Tobu has never been well-liked. Hell, I have a bone or two to pick with him myself. And how is Ulgorn? Kvasir said he hasn't been doing that well recently?"

"Ah, kid. He's getting older. He actually inducted Rae into their ranks. The little troublemaker turned out okay, and she's turned into a fine scout. Ulgorn's still not the happiest about it, but he's proud of her, even if he won't admit it."

"A few days ago she actually came up to my house to apologize. I could tell she'd have done it sooner if she wasn't so scared of the old witch." Verdandi put in.

Shadow let out a sharp laugh. " Rae, a scout? She's far too loud and unruly. Let's get moving. Brynhild, you can close your wings if you pull back on the aether. Easy, there - That's it!" She said as Brynhild concentrated, grasping at the strands of aether that encircled her and calling them back, away from her wings. She felt them fold and vanish, and took an awkward moment for her to regain her balance.

Shadow took point, Verdandi and Urd flanked Brynhild on either side, while Skuld brought up the rear. The old prison had turned into a graveyard of sorts, and was even more quiet and eerie than usual. Brynhild spotted more than a few sparkies laying on the ground, their lights dying out by the second. Many of the vengeful ghosts and thorned amphas seemed dead too, and nothing crossed their path as they made their way down the path. At the fork in the road, Shadow suddenly veered to the right.

"Skuld, I'll be back in a few moments. The Balaur-humpers should be checked on." And then she simply vanished into the air. "Says the one who turns into a Slayer at will." Verdandi muttered.

Skuld took the lead then, and they reluctantly kept on straight, following the gently curving path to the entrance of the prison camp to wait for Shadow. None of the usual guards were there, and the fire had died. A dead woodland sparkie was upturned inside the tent, and Skuld grabbed a large stick from the ground to move it off of the golden floor. Whoever it belonged to would have to clean it.

"Skuld, why did you never tell me my mother was alive? And what of my father?" Brynhild couldn't recall having any memory of her parents before she had lived with Skuld.

"There was never a good time to bring it up." Skuld replied flatly, her tone suggesting that the discussion was now over. The four of them stood in silence for several minutes as thoughts of the past few hours ran through Brynhild's numb mind. Had it really only been hours or less? It felt like days.

A twig snapped behind them, making all four Daevas jump. Shadow's figure seemed to materialize out of thin air in front of them.

"I was captured by an Elyos legion while on a spy mission. They kept me and tortured me for two months before giving up on trying to get information out of me. Then they tossed me into the abyss, where one of my own legionmates spotted me and saved me." Shadow deadpanned, and when Brynhild glanced over to her, her expression was hard and unreadable. Welp, that explained Munin's comment about Brynhild's heritage, along with her tanned skin and height.

The Daeva slid a dagger and sword back into sheaths at her waist.

"As for the Odella Plantation, it's dead silent. That old abyss gate is still dead, and there are a couple of dead mau, along with some Dundun. Most of the Methu and Rooty are dead as well. Most seemed unconscious though, so we'll tell the raiders to keep an eye out in case they get any ideas." The light made it easier to see as the five walked onwards, following the cobblestone path. Some karnifs were collapsed, unconscious. Their brown pelts gleaming as the sky slowly began to lighten around them.

Shadow kept back to walk next to Brynhild. Now that they were out of the Prison Camp and in better light, Brynhild could make out white hair and white skin under the leather armor she wore.

"How much did Munin tell you?" Her expression was unreadable.

"That I was a halfbreed, my father was an Elyos and that my mother was apparently captured on some sort of mission for a while, and that you refused to raise me so I was sent here." Brynhild wondered if that was the whole truth. Probably not, judging by the look on Shadow's face. Calling Shadow her mother felt strange.

"I have half a mind to go back there and kill the bastard myself, but I suspect the Shedim Lords would rather do that themselves..." Shadow muttered darkly.

A familiar watchtower came into their view and Shadow took the lead again. The Anturoon Crossing and it's Sentry Post were quiet, but they could see a figure leaning against the obelisk, while someone or something else was sitting by its feet. Another figure was crumpled to the ground, black wings curled around it protectively. Brynhild caught a flash of light blonde hair and pale skin. Edandos.

Shadow stopped them. "I need to make sure they're okay." And then the leather-clad assassin was jogging over to the outpost, dropping into a crouch next to the event staffer. She said something and the figure that had been leaning against the obelisk jumped. Shadow stood and the two embraced in a hug, but Brynhild couldn't make out what they were saying to each other.

Shadow knelt next to Edandos again, and pulled something from her cube. But again, Brynhild was too far away to see what was going on clearly.

"Resurrection stones." Skuld said flatly, as if she'd read the new Daeva's thoughts. Endandos slowly sat up, and Brynhild could see that she and Shadow were having a conversation. The look of shock plastered across the darker Daeva's face was clear, even from here, and Brynhild flinched as her gaze was suddenly locked with Edandos' dark eyes.

Endandos stood then, brushing dirt off of her robes, and turned, saying something to the dark figure leaning against the obelisk. Shadow knelt next to another form that had fallen for a few moments. The figure leaning on the obelisk knelt on the other side of Shadow, and Brynhild turned away, unable to watch. Had her ascension really caused all of this?

"Urd, Verdandi, Skuld!" Sadow suddenly called out to them, and Brynhild saw the dark figure next to her and Edandos wincing, as if their heads were hurting. All three Daevas glanced up sharply.

"Skuld, you are to help Edandos out here. Verdandi, you''re going with Urd to the Sap Farm up in the forest. If we've got survivors there, you'll look out for them and I'll go to Aldelle Village with Urd." Shadow's words were clear, and invited no arguments. Skuld obediently hurried over, taking the assassin's place as Shadow said something again to the dark Asmodian she was crouched across from, then stood and jogged over to where Brynhild was.

"Come." Shadow ordered, and kept walking past them, up the path leading to Munihele Forest. Brynhild hurried to catch up with her, not particularly wanting to be close to Verdandi or Urd at the moment.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Yeah, I've decided to continue on with the story! Reviews would be nice, as always.


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